


Veil

by rendezvous



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, Gen, M/M, Spoilers, What's better than this? Guys being dudes.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 02:09:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8603095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rendezvous/pseuds/rendezvous
Summary: "Boldness is a mask for fear, however great." - John DrydenWrench is feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable. Marcus is the only one he finds himself able to confide in.





	

"I don't like being seen by other people." Wrench aimlessly picked at his fingernails, keeping his head bowed low and staring straight at the ground.

During his FBI arrest and interrogation, one of the agents had destroyed Wrench's mask in a fit of rage. Wrench had been avoiding everyone for the past few days following, going to extreme lengths to hide his face  – and himself, in general – from his friends, despite their gentle reassurance. The Hackerspace was unusually quiet without all the racket that almost seemed like his _job_ to stir up.

He didn't have a backup, Marcus figured, otherwise they wouldn't even be having this conversation.

The Hackerspace was empty, save for the two of them; the day prior, Marcus had asked Sitara and the others if they wouldn't mind clearing out for a few hours the next day. They understood without a word more, and even made their simultaneous departure seem natural and inconspicuous. Sitara needed some fresh air and decided to hit the road and grace San Fransisco with more of her art. Josh had mumbled something about going to visit friends for a long, drawn-out Dungeons & Dragons campaign. Horatio was called into Nudle on what was _supposed_ to be one of his off days (which was unfortunately true). Ray just said he was hungover as shit and wanted to sleep somewhere with "no fuckin' lights on" and hobbled 'home', wherever that was (which, conveniently, was also true).

"You got everyone to leave for a few hours, didn't you?"

Wrench might have been a little crazy, but he certainly wasn't stupid. "I just thought you'd feel better talking about it in private." Marcus had seen that one coming a mile away, but was kind of counting on the notion that his friend wouldn't have noticed, cared, or bothered to point it out if he had.

Heavy silence hung in the air and in their throats for quite a while.

"... I just don't like... being looked at," repeated Wrench – Marcus was thankful he was the one breaking the silence. "That's it."

That definitely wasn't 'it', if Wrench's despondent tone of voice was anything to go by. Marcus had seen Wrench's face once before, the time he'd gone to bust him out of Dušan's cronies' shack of horrors. That experience was just as eerie as it was saddening – Wrench literally was a different person behind that mask, never mind the face it hid. What was once a man cheerful, gung-ho, and ready to raise hell was now little more than a husk. He barely spoke or moved. He hunched over, perpetually tense, as though he were on guard for something catastrophic. He didn't even seem to have the energy to work – both the Wrench Bench and his laptop had been abandoned.

When that agent destroyed that mask, he had taken a part of Wrench down with it.

"That's it?" Marcus took a seat next to him, not sure if he should look and potentially make his friend feel even more vulnerable, or look away and potentially make him feel like a freak. Thumbing through Reddit seemed like a good enough alternative for now. Thank God for smartphones.

"It's fine, man, you can look. I-I mean, it's not like it's anything new to you." The foreign falter in Wrench's dry, now-organic voice was even more disheartening.

Marcus slipped his phone back into his pocket, feeling a small wave of warmth crest in his chest at being granted such intimate permission. "Okay. Just wasn't sure."

"'Preciate it." They seemed to be on the same page. They always were.

It took a minute, but Wrench finally mustered the strength to sit up and look Marcus in the eye again. His stare was blank, as if he were trying not to see with his eyes open. His eyes were red, but not too much; Marcus suspected Josh had recently offered him some of the anti-anxiety medication Wrench occasionally joked about bumming off for recreational use. Perhaps he really did need it after all.

Wrench took a deep breath and heaved the heaviest sigh Marcus had ever heard amongst their team and their time together. "It... It just fucks me up, y'know. I don't know why."

When he had no response from Marcus, he leaned over to get his full attention. He tapped the left side of his forehead, searing glistening reds and purples of scar tissue. "Chemical burn, by the way. My own fault..."

"I think it looks pretty badass."

Wrench snorted. "You wouldn't believe the story if I told you."

"Knowing _your_ crazy ass? If you told me it came from _Chernobyl_ I'd believe it."

Marcus jolted as his friend burst out into the first genuine fit of laughter he'd heard from him in what seemed like months, rather than days. "Fuckin' A! I _wish!_ Can you imagine _seeing_ that thing?"

"Shit! I don't care if it'd kill me, hell, imagine getting outta there alive. If I could just see that crazy elephant-foot shit for myself, I wouldn’t care if I died, man, that shit’s… That shit’s just _dope._ ”

“Tons of people died, but that shit is _dope!_ ” Wrench echoed in a sing-song voice, slinging an arm around Marcus’ shoulder and dramatically fanning his arm out in front of them both.

Maybe it was Wrench’s morbid observation, maybe it was the sudden lift of tension, maybe it was the icebreaker, Marcus didn’t care. For a second, he had a clear glimpse of his friend – his happy-go-lucky, loyal, fascinating, hilarious, third-coolest-guy-he-knew-next-to-Kenney-and-Pearce best friend.

He paid the little hummingbird’s flutter in his chest no mind as he watched and listened to Wrench busting a gut, having suddenly launched into an avalanche of Chernobyl trivia and how (admittedly) “cool” it was, intriguing, God, M, I’ve always wanted to go there. I wanna go to a ghost town, y’know? Especially Chernobyl. Think of all _kinds_ of the cool shit they must have there! Your standard nuclear equipment, y’know, all that shit, outdated shit, but I bet we could figure out a way to – oh! _Fuck!_ Dude, you know what we could do? We could make some _seeerious_ firepower outta that shit! It wouldn’t take long. At least, I don’t think so. Eh, we’ll speed up the process. You made that fuckin’ mace, right? You should help me, dude, we could make something _BADASS!_

When Marcus had first caught a look at Wrench’s eyes, they almost had no color. Earlier that afternoon when they had first sat down to talk, they barely had color. But now, now he knew without a doubt they were green, for the walls that had tumbled down finally let the light shine through; a lovely shade of jade that twinkled with every whoop, every holler, each barrage of intensely-bellowed expletives.

A hue of jade that could rival the very gemstone that coined the color.

“M? Yo, Marcus?”

Marcus barely flinched at the rapping on the top of his head – Wrench had already risen from his seat, bouncing in his sneakers, eager to check out the 3D printer and probably Nudle ‘ways to get into chernobyl and take stuff’. “C’mon, man, let’s get the ball rolling, here! Sitara’s not gonna let me do it, but she’ll listen to you. Everybody listens to you. Oh, shit, you think Ray and Josh would come along? I bet if we annoyed her enough, Sitara would let it happen…”

“I dunno, man, you really wanna fly all the way out to the Ukraine? And I don’t think Sitara would be too happy about it… Ray might go for it, that old man just don’t give a fuck. Josh, though, it might be too much for him, like, sensory-wise.”

Wrench tilted his head, furrowing his brow. “Eh… Eh. You’re probably right. But I’m sure as fuck gonna do it! And you’re coming with me, dude.”

Chuckling, Marcus stood up and gave his friend a couple of light slugs to the chest. “Okay, okay, I’m down.”

Wrench flashed a grin. “Promise?”

At that moment, it occurred to Marcus that he’d never actually seen Wrench smile with his _mouth._ Until now, all he had to go by were the ASCII characters that lit up his mask, and that was nice on its own, but being able to actually see him _smile,_ especially given his current state of affairs, was nothing short of a gift.

Dare he say, a beautiful gift.

“M! Jeez, what is _with_ you today?”

Marcus snapped out of it, that sneaking infatuation, and turned to look at Wrench, who was still sporting that winning smile of his. “Damn, dude, I’m sorry! I dunno either.”

He… really didn’t.

“Me either! I mean… Huh.”

A sudden plummet in his chest brought Marcus back down to Earth for good this time. “What do you mean, ‘huh’?”

“No, I mean, like, just… huh. I, uh… I actually feel a lot better, now. Um…” Wrench scratched the back of his neck, biting his lip just slightly. “Th… Thanks, dude. I, uh… I really feel like… I’ve really been feeling like shit. This, uh… it just made it better.”

An internal sigh of relief – good thing Wrench didn’t have hummingbird heartbeat radar in that endless tech repertoire of his. “Hey, man, don’t mention it.” Marcus turned toward Wrench and rested a hand on his shoulder, looking him dead in the eye this time. “… You mean a lot to us. We wanna see you happy. We’re gonna rebuild that mask, if it makes you feel any better.”

A long pause. “… It… It would, yeah. A-As long as you help me, though! You’re the only one who understands my – “ Wrench extended and waved his arms up above once again, “ _Artistic vision_.”

Marcus snorted. “Man, now you’re just starting to sound like Sitara.”

“What do you think we became friends over?” Wrench grinned again, and, to Marcus’ surprise, grabbed him in for a hug. “Seriously, though, dude… Thanks. All this… Means a lot.”

They’d hugged tons of times before, friendly hugs, but this one in particular seemed to last a little longer than the others. Marcus took the time to savor the moment.

The two separated, and Wrench quickly turned his face away again. Marcus tensed in case something else had struck, maybe something worse, but closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief as the bouncing echo of Wrench’s laughter ricocheted all throughout the empty Hackerspace walls. “Okay, okay, c’mon! Before the rest get back. I’ve actually been drawing up some shit for a new mask, but I’m stuck. Help me out?”

“You know it!” Marcus grabbed his knapsack from the couch and jogged to the infamous Wrench Bench to take a look at the blueprints – knowing Wrench, they were probably even better than the one he’d worn before.

But it’d never be better than the man behind the mask.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my GOD, did I adore this game. I played the first when it came out and was very disappointed, but the series really feels like it's come into its own now. I can't get enough of these characters (not just Marcus and Wrench, although they're quickly approaching OTP status) and the world they live in. They have so much depth to them, so much to explore.
> 
> I'm very fixated on Wrench right now, if you couldn't tell already, haha. I'm really feeling inspired, so I might be writing more WD2 fic in the future... It's so fun! An absolute blast. Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it ~ !


End file.
